He caught her gaze, just once, across the lawn. His expression did not change. There was no smirk and none of his usual arrogance, but something passed between them all the same. It was a mere flicker, quick as lightning, gone before it could be named.
Matilda forced herself to look away. She smiled faintly at something Cordelia said and let the practiced ease of conversation wrap around her like armor. As the laughter ebbed around her, Matilda found herself half listening and half adrift. Cordelia was recounting some absurd story about her husbandmistaking a goose for a trespasser, and Hazel’s dry remarks kept the others in stitches, but Matilda’s thoughts were far away.
Her gaze wandered, as it had too often that day, toward the edge of the lawn where the rose hedge stood tall and quiet. She caught sight of Jasper conversing easily with a small group of gentlemen. His expression was relaxed and amused, as always.
An unexpected and dangerous warmth stirred beneath her ribs. Perhaps… perhaps they might speak again.Privately. She could tell him she regretted the manner of their parting. Not the kiss, for she could not bring herself to regretthat, but the silence that followed. Perhaps they could?—
“Lady Matilda,” a voice drifted to her.
Matilda turned only to find Lady Isabelle standing a pace away, wearing ruffles and calculated grace. Her smile was precise, but her eyes were not.
“Lady Isabelle,” Matilda said politely, rising. “I hope you are enjoying the afternoon?”
“Oh, immensely,” Lady Isabelle replied, though her tone suggested quite the opposite. “The Aberons do everything with such taste, don’t they? So charmingly rustic.”
Matilda inclined her head. “Indeed.”
A small pause followed. Cordelia and Hazel had drifted toward the lemonade table, leaving Matilda conveniently alone. Isabelle took a dainty step closer, lowering her voice with an air of confidence that did not quite reach her eyes.
“I know what you are doing.”
Matilda blinked. “Pardon me?”
Isabelle gave a delicate laugh. “Oh, come now, there’s no need to pretend withme. The Duke of Harrow can be… difficult to resist. I understand.”
Matilda’s composure did not waver, but her heart gave a small, traitorous jump. “You seem quite sure of many things, Lady Isabelle. Might I ask what, precisely, you believe I am doing?”
The younger woman smiled, triumphant in her own imagination. “You’ve captured his attention for the moment, I’ll grant you that. He has such a fondness for strays, doesn’t he? But I assure you, he belongs tome. He simply requires a little time to remember it.”
Matilda’s head slightly tilted. “Belongs to you?” she repeated softly. “How very curious. I was not aware that people could be owned.”
Isabelle faltered, though she tried to recover with a tinkling laugh. “You know perfectly well what I mean. We have an understanding.”
“I see,” Matilda murmured. “And has His Grace expressed this understanding? In words, I mean, not just in your imagination.”
Color rose in Isabelle’s cheeks. “You are very bold, Lady Matilda, for someone withyourhistory.”
Matilda smiled faintly. “One learns boldness when one has been foolish enough to live without it.”
For a moment, the younger woman looked as though she wished to slap her. Instead, she drew herself up and said, with all the dignity she could muster. “I only mean to warn you. The Duke of Harrow has no interest in widows who think they can charm him into redemption. Whatever fancy he has taken will soon pass. It always does.”
“Then I suppose I have nothing to fear,” Matilda said calmly, while her heart was beating like a race horse at Ascot’s. “A fancy that passes is no burden to anyone.”
Lady Isabelle blinked, unsure whether she’d been insulted or consoled. “You… you would do well to remember your place, Lady Matilda.”
“My place,” Matilda concluded sweetly, “is wherever I choose to stand.”
There was nothing more to be said. Isabelle floundered for a parting barb, found none, and retreated with a stiff curtsy thatmade Cordelia, who was just returning at that moment, raise a brow in suspicion.
Matilda only smiled faintly, though her pulse was still unsteady. As Isabelle vanished into the crowd, she turned her gaze once more toward the hedge.
Jasper was gone.
And though she told herself it was for the best, she could not help wondering if he had seen them, and furthermore, if he cared.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“You cannot tell me that gown was meant to look like that,” Cordelia declared with her hands on her hips as she surveyed Matilda with wide, delighted eyes.
